


At a Crossroads

by teaandchess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 08:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11077950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaandchess/pseuds/teaandchess
Summary: Alt S8. The Winchesters were surprised to see Meg with Castiel one night. Neither were aware of the dangerous condition the angel had found her in, or the ongoing relationship that is developing between them.





	At a Crossroads

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElocinMuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElocinMuse/gifts).



> Based off a tumblr prompt from ElocinMuse back in 2012: When the Winchesters meet up with Cas again, he has Meg with him. suddenly Cas DOES want to book his own room; Winchesters not knowing right away that Meg is the “mysterious” source helping Cas

 It should have stunned Dean to see Meg standing beside Castiel when they met again in South Dakota at the scene of a rumoured Rugarus attack. But after Purgatory, very little surprised him any more. After everything that had happened between them all, Meg’s reappearance was nothing to him. The demon and angel were standing in the crowd of bystanders, trying hard to blend in and utterly failing as Castiel seemed to just radiate… wrongness with the humans. Meg looked ready to kill the majority of the people who bumped into her as they tried to check out the pile of dead bodies found in the park.  
    Bodies Dean would have thought Meg had a hand in if it wasn’t for Castiel standing beside her.  
    Dean wasn’t sure what to make of it and when Sam slipped out from the Impala to join him it was clear that he was equally confused. They’d called Castiel for help, knowing they might need his protection. Neither had anticipated him bringing company.  
    Castiel’s head bent towards Meg and they saw her turn towards him, looking dwarfed by him when he leaned into her. But her pale features were twisted and furious and she jabbed at his chest hard to make a point before storming off. Castiel watched her leave and then turned towards them as they approached.  
    As if he’d known all along they were there and wasn’t worried about how it looked.  
     “Hey, Cas. You got here fast,” Dean said, not commenting on Meg’s presence.  
     “Well, on the wings of angels and all that. I’ve been watching the scene for about twenty minutes. I doubt it is a Rugarus.” Castiel plunged right into his explanation but Sam was still watching where Meg had gone. When Castiel took a breath, he waved a hand for him to stop  
     “Cas, where did you find Meg?”  
    The angel tried to deflect it. “I didn’t find her. She found me.”  
     “She’s been gone for over a year and just magically reappeared?” Dean asked in disbelief. “That doesn’t sound a little suspicious to you?  
     "Yeah. Makes sense for me to lie low, show up and then help him in this case,” Meg’s voice piped up from behind Dean. “I’m so very evil and conniving.”  
    Both men jumped and turned around to face her. She was still in the same meatsuit without any real evidence of change and was still looking as superior and sarcastic as ever. But Sam, who was closer, saw the faint signs of weariness.  
    The same sort he had had when his wall had been broken down.  
    She looked away from them to Castiel. “It’s not a Rugarus,” she informed him.  
     “What, you guys are hunting together now?” Dean asked incredulously and she gave him a roll of her dark eyes.  
     “Hardly.” She hesitated and then gestured at the suburbia around them. “I was in the neighbourhood.”  
     “Right.” Sam eyed her. “So why did you run after the Leviathan?”  
     “We have more important things to discuss,” Castiel interjected with a look at Meg. “It’s not a Rugarus. It means that that there is something going on hunting all the men in this town, right?”  
    Dean noticed how Meg flinched and he stared at her with new interest. That was not the demon he remembered. She caught his eyes and glared at him, effectively warning him to back off.  
     “Off Crowley’s leash?” he asked instead.  
     “And onto a different one, thanks for the concern,” she snarled back.  
     “Enough, Meg,” Castiel warned and she rolled her eyes.  
     “Pull on the choke chain a little tighter, Cas, I still think I have some free will left over.”  
     “Don’t you have a demon to contact for information?” Castiel asked calmly and they stared at each other. Neither backed down and Sam and Dean glanced at each uncomfortably, knowing that something was about to erupt. Eventually, Meg snorted and shook her head, storming past the brothers.   
    Not sure what to say, Dean glanced at Sam and saw he was just as puzzled.  
~  
    The odd change in Meg was more and more obvious the longer she stuck around during the hunt. It wasn’t anything massive; she was still a bitch, still had that evil side tainting the very air around her. But something was missing. She ignored them all except when she felt the need to interfere. Why she was here wasn’t clear and Castiel chose not to explain it to them no matter how hard they pushed.  
    They were travelling in the Impala, Meg as close to the door to keep away from Castiel as possible, when Sam turned in his seat towards her.  
     “Where were you, really?”  
    Meg looked away from the window at him. “I was one of the most hunted rebels in Hell. Use your imagination, Bullwinkle.”  
     “Okay… then why did Cas pick you up?” he tried instead. Castiel flicked his coat around his knees and glanced at Meg.  
     “I’m merely keeping an eye on her.”  
    She rolled her eyes and looked back out. “Which doesn’t mean he is actually going to do much of anything. As usual.”  
    Castiel glared at her.  
    Watching through the rear-view mirror, Dean was almost certain he could see the hostility between the two crackling like electricity.  
      “So, what hole did you finally drag yourself out of when you decided to stop hiding from Crowley?”  
    He’d expected a snap, her usual sarcasm.  
    But Meg didn’t answer. She simply stared back at him with a hunted expression the reminded him of, of all people, Anna. The same eyes that said she’d made a choice she had suffered and that she was living with despite her desire for escape. For some reason, Dean felt an actual pang of sympathy for the demon and he knew that that was wrong. Whatever happened to her was likely no more than she deserved.  
    He just wasn’t ready for the loud crack of power in the Impala that snarled around them and he slammed on his brakes instinctively, thinking they were under attack. But he heard Castiel’s exasperated mutter and when he turned in his seat to check, Meg was gone from the back seat. Nothing was left of her and the seat looked like it had always been empty.  
    Dean was sure he had never seen Castiel look so angry in a long time.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 _ **One week before…**_  
    She walked up the highway, stumbling a little now and then when her bare feet caught on the gravel stones. Her pale skin glimmered in the moonlight, bare and cold to the wind and ice of the Nebraska sky, but the shadows on her skin merely hid the bloody tracks still there. Anyone who could have seen her would have wondered how her skin was being held to her bones.  Anyone who came that close would have been horrified by the damage done to her small body and run at the sight of her.  
    Meg turned her head up and exhaled a puff of cold air.  
    She was free.  
    She couldn’t remember the particulars of how she’d crawled her way out of Crowley’s prison on earth but she’d done it.  
    There was no exhilaration like the last time she’d clawed her way from Hell, no delight and no pleasure.   
    Just endless nothingness. She was numb to everything around her.  
    She needed to find a way back and she was too weak to attempt to teleport anywhere but the nearest tree. What she needed was a ride and she only knew one way to get one while out in the sticks.  
     “Castiel,” she breathed out slowly, for the first time saying his name and ignoring how it burned her throat to utter that forbidden word. Her power, weak and recovering, stretched out over a distance and in her ears she could have sworn she heard a buzzing sound in response.   
     _Stupid_ , she thought to herself, reaching down and punching into a leg wound to punish herself.   
    The angel would not come for her. He hadn’t come for her in the first place.  
    A car’s headlights caught her back and threw her shadow into a long strip on the embankment. Meg stopped as an upcoming car honked and pulled over in a shower of gravel, and she turned around in the headlights.   
    Just her luck.  
    A man and a woman got out slowly, the woman giggling in a high-pitched irritating way while the older man stared at Meg.   
     “Hey baby… whatcha doin’ out here naked?”  
     _Humans_ , Meg thought with a growl inside her head, _either drunk or stupid._  
     “Just a pleasure walk, what the hell do you think?” she snapped. She eyed the woman. Even smaller than Meg, her skimpy clothes would be no use. The man was large, perhaps big enough to give her a little trouble considering how weak she felt.  
     “Well, you can come in the car. Have a little fun with my girl and me and we can give you a ride back to town.” He sidled up beside her and ran his hand down her bare shoulder. Meg chuckled and turned her head up at him, her eyes clicking to black. He finally saw the bloody tracks and gouges on her body and his mouth gaped open.  
     “I’d really rather just tear your heart out, steal your girl’s clothes and hijack your car. Doesn’t that sound fun to you?” she asked and his face went white in terror. The girl behind him screamed and fainted pathetically fast for her drunken state.  
    But before Meg could get a step further, she heard the flutter of wings and a hand reached out past her. Something soft brushed her naked back, like a reassuring touch, and it made her skin crawl.  
     “Go to sleep,” a low voice whispered as fingers brushed the man’s sweated forehead and rendered him unconscious. He slumped down immediately in a heap and Meg turned slowly.  
     “Hello, Castiel.”  
     “Hello, Meg.”  
    They stared at each other, looking like two wraiths in the headlights of the car. Unable to help herself, she quickly checked him over and saw that he was back into his coat and suit, and the look he gave her was equally appraising. Castiel reached out towards her and she took two steps back to avoid his touch, almost tripping over the body of the heavyset man.   
    Unaffected by her avoidance, the angel’s eyes raked over her body carefully and the demon flinched again at the pity in his eyes.  
     “You’re hurt.”  
    Meg lifted one hand and stared at the bloody hollows where her fingernails had been, at the scars marring her wrist. “Yeah, I guess I am.”  
     “And you’re naked,” he finished lamely and Meg rolled her eyes in exasperation. She held her arms out to the side, a parody of crucifixion with the way she kept her ankles crossed and her palms turned towards him. It made him frown to see her attempt at blasphemy in the light and she grinned wickedly.  
     “Wow, you get all the points today, angel. I didn’t think you’d notice.”  
    The effect was lost when she lost her footing and fell to her knees. She gave a nearly hysterical laugh to cover up the cry of pain she’d let slip out. Castiel knelt before her, careful not to touch and careful to keep out of reach.  
    Meg looked up at him and he saw her true face flickering indecisively.  
     “Don’t look at me like that,” she whispered, her voice taut with pain. “I hated whenever you looked at me like that.”   
    "I need to get you out of here,“ he muttered. Looking at the man and woman, he shook his head. "Before someone dies.”  
    With the air of a martyr giving up something he loved, he yanked his coat off and draped it around her naked body.  
     “Well, aren’t you just a giver?” Meg muttered before he pressed his fingers to her forehead.  
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_**Present Day**  _

    Castiel’s insistence on getting his own motel room surprised Dean, and Sam was oddly impressed when the angel actually explained why. He’d figured out why third wheel was a poor thing to be. He may be their friend, but even friends needed time apart.  
    The oddly human understanding dumbfounded the Winchesters into just watching as he managed to pay for the room with a credit card he insisted was legitimate and acquired legally. Dean didn’t have the heart to tell him that credit card fraud was going to happen eventually when they figured out he wasn’t actually going to pay.  
    Unable to help it, the moment they were unpacked Dean went knocking at Castiel’s door. He was worried about Castiel and his sudden desire to be alone. The door swung open on its own and he saw Castiel sitting on the bed, staring at the television.      
     “That’ll rot your brain,” Dean offered as he leaned against the opposing wall.   
     “Yes, well. Fortunately for us all my brain is not exactly of this world,” Castiel said, frowning at the television. “Are all these wildlife channels so inane?”  
     “Typically. Sam and I are going to the diner. You want to come?”  
    Castiel tore his eyes away from the mating rituals of flying squirrels to look at him. “I don’t eat.”  
     “No but it’s going to be lonely here all by yourself.” Dean looked around the room. “Looks pretty empty.”  
     “I’ll be fine. I may just… rest.”  
     “I thought you didn’t need sleep either,” Dean pointed out and Castiel shook his head.  
     “Just because I don’t sleep doesn’t mean that I don’t feel tired.” He clicked off the television and stared at Dean. “But I appreciate it, Dean.”  
    There was something troubling in Castiel’s expression, as if he was in earnest wanting to tell Dean he was fine.   
     “I can contact a few sources about this case for you. I just need to get some… rest.”  
     Dean nodded. “Okay. Let me know if you need anything. Or if you want to just talk.”  
     “I will, thank you.”  
     “Night then.” Dean wanted to stay and force him to say what was wrong but knowing Castiel’s ability to stonewall him, that would never happen. So he left him alone again and hoped he knew he could come to him for help, the way he had been for weeks now. Castiel had been struggling with the weight of his own guilt so much lately that he knew better than to push him.  
    Castiel stared at his hands as Dean left once again, closing the door behind him. He hated lying to Dean, even if it was a lie of omission. But how easy it still was.  
    The bathroom door opened and Meg appeared in the backlight, eyeing the door  suspiciously.  
     “You move remarkably fast when you want to,” Castiel said and he glanced at her.  
     Meg stared back. “I’ve had to learn to be faster than the rest of you.”  
    She took the opposite couch and curled her feet under her buttocks, running a hand through her hair. “Guess I won’t mind staying here for a few hours.”  
     “I… It is better than you being loose.”  
     “So the collar is still there?” she asked caustically and he stood up from the bed, running his fingers over the quilt. Meg watched him from the corner of her eye as he approached her and when he crouched down beside the couch, she stared at him like a cornered animal. Castiel ran his blue-eyed gaze over her.  
     “Are you suggesting that I trust you not to cause problems for the Winchesters?”  
     “No. Don’t trust anyone, that’s one lesson I’ve learned.” Meg tapped her fingers over her lips thoughtfully.   
     “I’d rather have you near.”  
    Meg arched an eyebrow. “Any particular reason why?”  
     “Trouble seems to follow you, as I recall,” he answered and Meg sneered.  
     “I’ll be gone in the morning.”  
    ~  
    Except she wasn’t able to leave.  
    Not that she didn’t try to leave but he didn’t let her get far. Castiel followed her to the door and trapped her against the panelling, one hand on either side of her head and his sheer power keeping her snared. They stared at one another, neither speaking for a long time. Meg couldn’t move, didn’t bother to try, as he looked at her. There was something in his expression that reminded her of another time, of being encircled by flames that burned so hot she could feel them scald her body just standing within them.  
     Eventually, he insisted they stay together and she was still too weak to argue.  
    When Dean remarked on her disappearance the next day when Castiel met them, he admitted that Meg was merely lying low. He just didn’t say how he knew that and neither Winchester wanted to know. He merely was aware of her every move because he couldn’t trust her not to suddenly turn on them all.   
    Meg had not been impressed or intimidated his demands and he knew that it might only be a matter of time before whatever happened to her exploded outwards and she tried to take them all down for revenge.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 _ **One week earlier**_ …  
     “How long was I gone for?” Meg asked as she took a drink of coffee. The bitter acidity of it made her smile and she rolled her shoulders back to ease the ache. She was still naked beneath his coat but luckily he’d found a place where there wasn’t much of a dress code for anyone to notice. Castiel sat across from her, looking out of place with the amount of truckers who were here for breakfast.   
    He nervously looked around.  
     “Don’t worry,” she drawled. “I’m sure your reputation won’t get tarnished by being around me.”  
     “Don’t be so sure,” he answered without thinking and he missed the scowl she gave him. “I was in Purgatory for over a year. Why did you call me now? Or were you telling me the truth?”  
     “About Crowley? Oh, really, he and I were just having tea and crumpets, obviously.” She opened the coat a little to expose a deep gouge that ran from the top of her breast bone to her navel. Her eyes flicked to black in a challenging way. “Really, I have nothing better to come up with and I’m willing to just mark myself up. Must be lying.”  
      “I had thought….” He stopped himself. “But after how many times you’ve been in Hell, what makes Crowley’s imprisonment so different this time? You escaped.”  
    He asked it innocently enough but the air between them suddenly grew thick and tense.  
    Meg set the cup down on the table with so hard a bang that it shattered under her fingers. Dropping his eyes for her glare, Castiel stared at her now bloody fingers and at the broken ceramic skittering across the table. A waitress came bustling over and started mopping up the spill, asking Meg if she needed bandages, but the demon shook her head. It took her considerable restraint not to snap the simpering woman’s neck.  
    That the angel was staring at her expectantly probably helped her keep her calm.  
    So he was back to his old self, she realized with a mixture of anticipation and wariness. Caustic and rough with understanding. He was a heartbeat away from exorcising her just for toeing outside the invisible line he was drawing around her.  
    Once the waitress was gone, Castiel reached for her hand to try to heal her but she yanked it out of his way.   
     “No offence. But I don’t like to be touched. Especially by angels.” Castiel’s insulted expression was so clear that she shook her head. “I’ve got reasons.”  
     “Which are?”  
     “Besides,” she continued on as if he hadn’t spoken and she lifted her now healed hand. As if it would make him forget that her entire body was a maze of still healing flesh. “I’m self-sufficient. As always.”  
    He had no answer for that.  
~~~  
 _ **Present Day…**_

  
    They travelled together after meeting up with Dean and Sam that first time since her return, unlikely companions with more than a few things keeping them from being friends. They had their reasons, the ones they admitted out loud and the ones they hid deep within themselves. It took him a few days before Meg finally told him a fraction of what had happened to her with Crowley, and what he heard made even his true form feel cold. He remembered Heaven’s tortures, its disciplines, and somehow Meg made him feel it was incomparable to what had been done to her. The wounds were healed but the gouges left inside her were deep and made her even more difficult to try to understand.  
    She was broken into more pieces than she admitted to him. Something had been done to try to shatter her to near nothingness. She was still strong, still crass and wicked, but something… lingered just under her surface.  
    There were times when Castiel could not look out her without feeling shame. Shame that he actually liked her company enough to constantly seek her out, shame that he was ignoring centuries of training. Shame that he’d failed to protect someone else he owed for helping him in a time of need.  
    Yet there were other times when he actually felt peace when they stayed close to one another. Her shadows balanced out a righteousness that glowed from him and buoyed him against his own arrogance of faith.  
    Meg kept him at distance. He’d asked for her help in understanding the world around him better, bargained for it by giving her protection so she could regain her former strength that seemed so slow in recovering. Despite their unspoken truce, the barrier remained, much stronger than ever before. Her resentment at his breaking his word to her showed whenever they argued.   
    She often ignored that the only reason why he continued to book a room was so that she would have a place to feel safe for the night.   
    So he learned to leave her alone when they came to their motel room together or when he arrived back after leaving to help the Winchesters. Meg remained a cold shadow of what she’d been in the hospital towards him, while he held her at arms length just as warily. Those memories were buried and barely remembered.  
    That only changed the day he caught her and learned what she did when she was alone. He’d come back from a hunt, tired and weary to the bone from dealing with Heaven’s orders, only to find her clothes scattered on the floor and a knife on the table, the room smelling heavily of blood and power. Having dealt with an adulterous husband and a wife who ended up being a succubus, his mind raced to conclusions before he could stop it. He melted back into shadows, unable to explain why he suddenly felt jealous that perhaps she’d come back with another male, demon or human.   
    They were not together, biblically or carnally. Possessiveness was beyond him. Should be beyond him. But he felt it pounding through him that she’d maybe chosen to confide something of herself to someone.  
    When Meg came out naked from the shower, all thoughts of betrayal and anger left him. Her stomach and legs were a mass of raised welts and still healing skin, painted blood just barely washed off. Even though he wasn’t visible to her, he saw the evidence of what Meg did when he wasn’t around. She’d been warding herself against other demons and angels, he realized; likely every time he left her she painted them on her body.   
    She didn’t trust him to keep his word.  
    ~~~  
     “We could just trap Crowley by using another demon as bait,” Meg offered over the table. Castiel stared at her and gestured for her to be quiet as he spoke to Dean on the phone. She sighed and started to stalk around the room  
     “My… source says that perhaps he could be trapped by using a demon, one loyal to him.”  
     “Who is this source again?” Dean demanded.  
     “A friend.”  
     “You trust him to find one we need?”  
    Castiel couldn’t bring himself to correct Dean and he turned to look at Meg. “Yes.”  
    Something stiffened in Meg’s careful posture when he said that and he knew she had heard him.  
~~~  
    It happened when, of all things, he made her laugh. It was a silly thing really, since her laugh was at his expense as usual. He’d been arguing with a small child at the motel after the boy had stormed into their room looking for his parents. He’d not known that children could be so obstinate and annoying and he had actually tried to intimidate him. He’d actually let the babbling child glimpse his wings, hoping to quiet him. The boy had run off screaming that the boogieman was after him and Castiel had shut the door, feeling flustered.  
    He’d been expecting to see Meg about to explode about annoying humans and the sight of her actually laughing stunned him. Not a dry chuckle, nothing that spoke of dark humour and evil wit. This was actual laughter that rippled through the air no matter how hard she tried to stop it.  
    The change it brought in her vessel and her true face was amazing to him. The body actually seemed to light up and the soul inside somehow seemed less twisted and cruel. Not as tightly wound up. The pieces seemed to slide back together in that moment into something harmonious between her two faces.  
    Unable to help himself, he’d walked over to her and put a hand into her hair, feeling the strands weave through his fingers when he cupped the back of her neck. She stopped laughing instantly when he bent his head and she stared up at him. Fascinated by the change, he wanted to taste the difference laughter might make on her tongue; he’d brushed his lips over hers and felt the change in just that simple touch. The demon had slipped away before he could manage to exert more than a feather-light pressure.  
    He didn’t forget the change or the way she had hesitated before pulling away. He was aware that he’d seen another side to her dark nature.  
    Meg didn’t forget what he’d done either.  
    She was cold for a week after that and barely spoke to him except to help him on occasion when he’d arrive at the pre-booked room. Eventually, she frustrated him so badly that he left her to fend for herself as he travelled with the Winchesters. But even as he worked with Dean and Sam, he worried. Worried like a loyal dog that been beaten for being disobedient yet still wanted to be stroked by its master.  
    Then she was there again, at his side in another state, in another rented room. A dark thing that was becoming an angel’s shadow and lingering around him wherever he went. Whatever had happened between them was forgotten and Crowley once again was her focus, her quest.   
    Castiel envied her loyalty to her unspoken cause.  
    ~~~  
    The nest of vampires was a densely layered one of many rooms within the old apartment building and Castiel sighed as he waited for Dean’s orders from the roof of the building.  
     “What’s up, buttercup?” Meg’s voice made him jump and he turned to see her standing on the tile beside him. Her dark head was tilted to the side. “Vamps still there?”  
     “Like you said they were. Dean insists they are no threat to him and Sam but I am here… just in case.”  
     “Baby-sitter duty? Cute.” Meg reached out and brushed a piece of plaster from his coat. “What happened?”  
     “I had to go through a wall again,” he explained. “It was mostly… uncomfortable.” She nodded and he looked at her. “Why are you here?”  
    Meg shrugged. “I got bored. You’ve been gone for days and I thought I gave you instructions on what to do.”  
     “It’s been a trying situation.” Castiel looked out over the city. “I would almost think you missed me, Meg.  
     "Shut up,” she grumbled when he looked at her curiously.   
     “You never normally follow me.”  
     “Like you would ever notice if I did.”  
    He squinted a little at her, tilting his head on the side to try to understand what she meant.  
    Sam suddenly appeared at the top of the ladder, his hair getting in his eyes as he nearly fell at the top. He stopped the minute he saw Meg. “What are you doing here?”  
     “Afternoon delight?” she offered pleasantly.  
     “Right.” Sam looked at Castiel. “She’s the source helping you, isn’t she?”  
     “She told me they were here, yes.”   
     “I’d love to yell at you but Dean’s down there needing you to heal some humans they were sucking’ on. Come on.”  
    Castiel started off after him without saying a word to the demon still at his side.  
     “Arf arf, Rin Tin Tin,” Meg mocked, mimicking a dangling leash with her hand. Castiel stopped mid-stride and looked at her and something in his eyes made her step back and disappear, aware that once again she’d struck a nerve.  
    ~~  
    If Castiel had found dealing with the Winchesters frustrating, dealing with Meg was even worse. She had discovered each button to push, each crack and chink in his armour, and she would often dig in with her viciousness and try to pull him apart. But for each dig and furious insult, there would be something he learned from her. Something he usually never expected to learn.  
    He’d come back to their room after the vampires were taken care of and found her sprawled on her stomach, head buried in the pillows. Meg sometimes chose to rest as a way to pass the time while she waited for more information on Crowley, and he never really disturbed her whenever she rested.  
     It was his understanding that she was helping him as a way of getting back at Crowley. She’d been an unusually adept helper in finding the Word of God. So he allowed her those idiosyncrasies and ignored the way she’d always lie and say she never needed rest. Tonight was a rare night when he noticed she was actually asleep.  
     “Cas,” she murmured in her sleep and he stopped by her bed on his way to the couch. Though he knew he shouldn’t, he reached out and brushed his fingers over the crown of her head and tapped into her mind.  
     _Soft fluttering beams of whitewash warmth surrounded him, and he sighed happily. It reminded him of Heaven, of being embraced by his brothers and sisters in feather-light, and he looked around. It was comforting here and he never wanted to leave. When he turned to his left, he saw that Meg stood there, a dark shade in the brilliant light, and her smoky form twisted this way and that. When she saw him, her mouth opened in surprise and the dream melted away into darkness._  
 _Crushing pain went through his true form and he fell to his knees as a million tether-hooks settled into his wings and began to pull in opposite directions. Whimpering in agony, he hung his head in the dream Hell and let his wings be pulled apart._  
    A sharp pain cracked across his face and rattled him out of the shared dream.  
     “Castiel. Wake up.”  
    His eyes snapped open and he saw that he was lying beneath Meg on the bed. Though she was tiny, her weight kept him pressed down and she was shaking her hand from the slap she’d given him. Her eyes were turned black, two tiny pinpoints of light reflecting back at him when she leaned down to look him over. There was an odd look in them that reminded him of a starved animal who’d been offered food finally and wasn’t sure if it should take it. Sucking in a deep calming breath, he tried to calm his heartbeat down from the effect of the dream.  
     “You dream. I didn’t think demons could,” he blurted out, not sure what else to say.  
     “I’ve been dreaming since I started hanging around you. About what I think is Heaven. I think it’s an after-effect of….” She waved her hand. “Whatever you cloudhoppers give off.”  
     “But I saw Hell after I saw Heaven.”  
    She grinned widely. “Welcome to my everyday nightmare.”  
    He pushed himself up on his elbows. “That is what Hell was like for you?” She shrugged and made to move off of him but he grabbed hold of her hips and held her still. “Answer me, Meg.”  
    Her teeth bared a little at the order but he stared back.  
     “That… was nothing like the Hell I experienced.” She went stone-faced. “You were lucky that you got the beta version and not the recent update.”  
     “I’m not sorry that you haven’t seen what Heaven is like now then either,” he admitted, fingers softening on her hipbones a little.  
    Something flashed across her face, as if she was consumed by some internal thought with nothing really obvious to let him know if his words had reached her. Then suddenly she was sprawled on his chest, a hand clawing through his coat to grasp his shirt and her lips pushing his apart. He slumped back down, startled by the pure power in her kiss as she straddled him and kept him pinned him to the bed. He let her control the kiss with an almost desperate hunger, swamping him with her need and anger.   
    After weeks of keeping apart, of not touching another, it was incredible and overwhelming and eventually he grabbed her shoulders, twisting her beneath him and forcing her to let go of his clothes. Meg stared up at him, her swollen mouth and half-closed eyes seductive. His own closed halfway, watching her warily for any sign of her pulling away. But there was nothing. The demon was so still beneath her surface, unlike her usual restless personality, and he knew he should recoil away from what she was clearly offering.   
    He just couldn’t remember the reason why.  
     “Come on, Clarence,” she teased, lifting her head as far as he let her. Her mouth just skimmed his and he sucked in a breath when her tongue brushed his lower lip. “Show me what Heaven feels like.”  
~~  
    Sam noticed it before Dean did even though the angel had hoped he was being subtle. But the younger Winchester cornered him in the Impala and stared at him as if he knew some deep secret about Castiel.   
     “You’ve done something.”  
     “Done what?”  
     “I’m not sure, but I’ve noticed something is different. You don’t look as lost when Dean starts showing off his pop culture knowledge. And you interrogated a suspect on your own last case. What is going on?” Sam looked him over curiously. “Are you spending time with Garth again?”  
    Castiel shook his head.  
     “Then what is it?” Sam pressed.  
     “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”  
     “Is it Meg?”   
    Castiel made sure not to react. “It is not.”  
    Sam gave him an exasperated look. “Right.”  
~~  
    Nothing changed, even after he discovered Meg dreamed now because of his constant presence. It was still a forbidden alliance to him; taboo and unexpected, one that would result in an exile from their kinds, and Castiel often considered just leaving. Especially when Meg’s thorny nature stepped inside his personal morality.  
    Her unpredictability intrigued him though and he learned that she was just as likely to pounce on him for sex, as she was to fight with him. He could follow the patterns of the Winchesters: Dean would be moody long before he exploded, while Sam was far more emotional and expressive sometimes. Even Kevin Tran was predictable.  
    But Meg was another story.  
    However as the days passed he started to learn to read her easier. There were tics; hints that her vessel took from her soul such as an arch to her eyebrow or a vicious though deceivingly pleasant grin just before they’d fight. She was terrible to her body in some ways: drinking so much alcohol he could see the damage it did to her liver before she healed it and cutting into her skin to paint wards instead of using chalk or paint. Sometimes she would disappear for hours on end, ignoring his insistent calls and summoning, and eventually he’d find her walking back after one of her frequent battles with Crowley’s demons. Usually bloody and cold, typically so badly torn up that her clothes were useless. He’d become used to lending her his suit jacket during those times until she could steal another leather jacket. Whenever she would give the jacket back, it would smell of cinnamon and vinegar for days after.   
    Yet there were times when he thought she might have some form of affection for her ‘meatsuit’. There was a careful tending to her skin, healing almost instantly the bruises and cuts, and an almost vain way she’d choose her clothing.  
    Sometimes, he even thought she had some deeper form of affection for him and he might be feeling for her beyond what was right.  
    He tried hard not to go back her arms after that first night but she’d pick fights so easily that it was simpler to kiss her to shut her up than to storm out. He was still booking the rooms so by his rationale he shouldn’t be the one to leave. Meg was doing it deliberately though; she enjoyed his attention these days and goading him into action worked. He even started retaliating the same way in order to mask how conflicted it made him feel to be with her sometimes. Slowly, he started to see the Winchester’s point about sex. It was easy to forget things when she let him find comfort in her body and borrowed warmth.  
    Though he was never sure she lost herself as much in him as he did in her.  
~~~  
     “You know, times like this I am glad I bought stock in the Church. Never ending supply of Holy Oil,” Crowley said loudly over the scuffle of the Winchesters and his demons. It wasn’t a long one, the sheer number of demons overwhelming them until Dean was pinned to the concrete and Sam was thrown up against one of Crowley’s racks and strapped in with relative ease. Castiel paced inside the circle of flames, toeing the edge as close as he dared.   
     “The Word isn’t here,” he whispered and Crowley mockingly clapped his hands.  
     “Last horse crosses the line. Figured that out on your own? Congratulations.” He looked over at Dean and Sam. “I was hoping you had the last fragment with you. That Tran boy is very difficult to find it seems.”  
     “I don’t,” Castiel snapped, eyes on Dean. His face was little more than a bloody pulp and they stared at each other for a moment until the angel forced himself to look away.  
     “Shame that. I’ll have to kill your pets then. Unless…. You want to give it to me by telling me where that boy is? Him and his delightful mother.”  
    Not for the first time, Castiel nearly blurted it out rather than plan for the sake of Dean and Sam.  
     “Because you know that no one is coming to help you. Heaven has no use for you and beyond these two sad-sacks, you’ve got no one.” Crowley wiggled his fingers over the flames. “Well, maybe a few bees.”  
    Castiel stared back, his expression not changing as he realized that Crowley had reminded him that he had another option. He made a show of turning his head to check his surroundings. It kept his mouth from being seen as he reached out with the only thing he could.  
    His mind.  
     “Meg, I need you,” he whispered, struggling to feel her despite the way the flames weakened him. Then he felt that familiar shadow just at the edge of his senses and he tried even harder.  She was never far from him as per their agreement. “Please.”  
    He’d never begged her before, had always sworn that he wouldn’t. But he was begging now.  
     “ ** _Please_** …”  
     “What was that? Location location?” Crowley asked, cupping his hand to his ear.  
    Knowing his faith was likely to go unproved, Castiel turned around.  
     “I won’t give you the Word or Kevin Tran.”  
     “Really? Well, that puts a damper in my letting the boys go then.” The demon nodded to one of the heavyset grunts that had strapped Sam onto the rack. “Feel free to start cutting his ears off.”  
     “Sam!” Dean shouted and Crowley sniffed, lashing out with his power in one flex of his fingers. Castiel started for him, stopped by the warning curls of flame, and he watched helplessly as Dean was lifted in the air. The Winchester’s body was slowly rotated as Crowley began to apply pressure from inside his body.  
     “Tell me, Cas. Will it be worth it if I kill him and his brother? The only friends you have in the world?”  
    The demon that was leaning over Sam’s head suddenly howled, attracting their attention. His big body was convulsing, a gleaming silver knife protruding from the back of his skull, and immediately his flesh ignited. The demon burned so brightly that they had to look away until the flames faded. The corpse collapsed to his knees, still smoking. Sam exhaled sharply in relief as Crowley gestured for the other demons to keep an eye out. Dean was dropped from the air in a thud onto the pavement and Castiel whirled on his heel to try to see through the flames.  
     “Oh for Lucifer’s sake,” a smoky voice said from the other side of the room and they all turned to see Meg leaning against the wall fence on the other side of the junkyard. She looked like she had been there the entire time, her pose was so unhurried and without care. A silver angel sword dangled from her fingers and she gave Crowley a disgusted sneer before pointing it at him. “You, Crowley, always were such a drama queen. You never learned to torture first, ask questions later.”   
     “Whore.” Despite the venom behind the insult, Crowley didn’t move towards her and his own demons stayed back nervously. “I’d gotten word that you were hanging around Castiel again. Thought it was a joke. But I can smell it on you both from here.”  
    Sam managed to twist his head around to look at Castiel.  
     The angel didn’t look away from Meg.  
     “Better than the smell of the young boys you’ve been paying off,” Meg answered, her bored voice not changing pitch.  
     “Maybe but that is honest smell. A transaction without real shame for a demon. You’ve been whoring yourself out to an angel and you are…” Crowley’s fingers twisted at his side. “Not the demon you used to be. That is some very fine inter-species sin, you two.”  
    Meg finally moved, each stride slow and calculated. “Can we just cut your throat and get it over with?”  
     “You’re here to help them?” Crowley gestured at the Winchesters. “The boys who a few years ago you’d kill in a heartbeat?”  
    Meg looked at them indifferently. “I couldn’t care less about them.”  
    Crowley looked at Castiel triumphantly but the sound of another demon igniting into flame caused him to look around. The demon that’d been ready to pounce on Meg was shaking as she held the blade in his throat, blackened blood pumping out. Meg looked through the smoke rising from his body at Castiel.  
     “But I never said I was loyal to them.”  
     With a hard shove, she threw the body onto the flames and snuffed out a patch of them. Castiel had been ready for it, guessed what she would do by the way she had moved, and he shot out to grab hold of the demon closest to him.  
     “Bullocks,” Crowley hissed, moving for Dean again. There was a blur of dark smoke and movement and he threw up his arm to block the blow. His arm was broken out of the way and he shouted at the piercing pain that went through his body.  
    Meg slid her knife into his chest, missing his heart by fractions, and she snarled at him. “I owe you years, Crowley. Years and so much pain. It would be too easy to snuff you out now.”  
    She leaned into the knife and twisted hard to the left. He stared up at her, startled that the blow hadn’t killed him.  
     “But trust me, when I do get to kill you, I will have you begging me to stop. The way you never got me to beg,” she threatened lowly.  
    He managed to grab her by a hunk of her hair and twisted hard to force her back. “I’ll make sure next time to burn your rotted soul out of you. In front of Castiel since you’re playing the whore for him.”  
    With a shove, he threw her through the air. The knife pulled out of his chest and he gasped in pain at the new sensation of having his own darkness leaking out of his vessel. Stuffing his hand into the wound, he glared at the Winchesters. Dean’s bloodied eyes stared back at him as he tried to get up to help Castiel.  
     “You’d do well to kill her. Just saying.”  
    He vanished, desperate to get away from a battle he knew he couldn’t win.  
    Meg’s tiny body flew into Castiel’s back as he finished smiting one of the last demons remaining, and he turned, catching her with one arm. His palm came out instinctively and slapped down onto her forehead, every ounce of training and Grace causing his power to surge forward in blinding light. The rage and fear he’d felt had made him blind but something cleared as her body fit into his arms neatly. Blood poured from her eyes as his power started to exorcise the demon, and he finally looked through the light into her face.  
    The absolute terror in her eyes drained him of his anger and, speechless, he dropped her to the ground at his feet. She gasped for a breath she shouldn’t need, a wheezing sound as she struggled to get to her hands and knees.  
    When she looked up from her bloody hands, blood streaked down her cheeks like drag marks, and Castiel stared back, horrified at what he had done.  
    She was gone before he could reach out for her, leaving only her discarded angel sword behind. Not sure why he felt so terrified for her, Castiel tried to push Meg from his mind while he released Sam and stooped over Dean. The flush of power this time was soft and gentle, humming through him without violence as he healed Dean.  
    Once Dean’s face no longer resembled one massive bruise, he felt his fear for the boys ebb slowly. The terror for Meg remained and he cursed feeling that deeply.  
     “What the hell just happened?” Sam asked and Castiel looked up at him. Dean picked himself up, leaning into his brother for support.  
     “Meg came because I asked her to.”  
     “And why would you ask her to do that?”  
    Castiel sighed. “Because our friends are far and few between. She’s been helping me.”  
    Thinking that that would explain it, he turned away to look for a sign of where she’d gone. But Dean grabbed his shoulder and turned him around forcefully.  
     “Was Crowley telling the truth? You been sleeping with Meg, Cas? Why?”  
     “Because.” He couldn’t think of an answer. “I needed someone.”  
    Both Sam and Dean flinched and he shook his head. “You are my friends, my brothers, but there were times when I could not take comfort in you without destroying you.”  
     “So what? You figure rolling yourself in a demon is a good thing for letting it all out?” Dean nearly shouted. “You goddamn trust her not to turn on us?”  
     “Yes.” The blunt way he said it made Dean lean back away from him. Castiel moved away, looking around the small factory floor and trying to see where their plan to attack Crowley had gone wrong.   
     “Well.” Sam slapped his hands on his legs and looked at Dean. “Guess that solves that, huh?”  
     “Goddamn it, Sammy. I knew there was an explanation for Cas hanging around Meg but I was hoping it would be a simple one.”  
     “I’m still me,” Castiel answered.  
     “I know, and that’s why it’s not a simple explanation at all,” Dean said. He shook his head. “Come on. We need to get a hold of Garth and warn him that Crowley is getting closer to finding Kevin. Cas? You with us?”  
     “Yes… of course.”  
    But though Dean nodded, Sam saw that the angel was already distracted.  
  
~~  
  
    He booked room after room after the disaster in Houston, going from town to town and leaving obvious signs that he was there. Signs he knew she could find. Though the angels visited, curious to see why he was leaving himself so wide open for attack, none of them ever commented on what he’d been exposed to. One of his younger brothers, a cherub, eventually said that of all the sins he’d committed, this was one of the least of their worries considering the state that Heaven was in.   
    Eventually, he was so sick of his own family’s pandering that he started using the sigils to keep them out. He stopped following the Winchesters around like a puppy when Dean snapped at him to stop acting like a lovesick teenager since he moped around them. He instead kept close to Kevin, Linda and Garth, determined to protect them.  
    But rather than just linger in the background, he booked a motel room outside New Orleans and waited. He asked questions of any demon or witch with the misfortune to think that he was easy prey, and the answer was always the same. No one even knew if she was still around or if she’d gone into hiding. Castiel scoured the earth but it was no use.  
    He’d shown her ways to hide herself from angels and demons alike. Ways to hide from anyone who posed a threat. He’d nearly killed her through his own battle lust and she’d known it.  
    Sam called now and then, less inclined to be upset with Castiel than Dean at times, and Castiel found his friendship helping that odd sensation of separation. Dean eventually started calling as well, praying to him for help now and then. Meg wasn’t brought up and it was better that way. Their awkward truce had a rule: Castiel didn’t mention Dean’s still standing friendship with Benny and Dean didn’t mention Castiel’s odd affection for Meg.  
    The angel hadn’t thought he’d ever miss having a demon for a shadow.  
    It had already been two months and he wasn’t sure why he still felt out of sorts. The day he moved to another motel, he thought he’d felt a shadow behind him inside the front office. He’d turned and there had been nothing.  
    The owner cleared his throat loudly.   
     “It’s ninety-five for a room for a week,” the wrinkly old man muttered, not even looking across the counter at him. Castiel sighed and fished out a fistful of crumpled bills, dropping them on the counter and grabbing the key.   
    The badly decorated room itself smelled of old perfume and smoke, but he sat down heavily on the bed anyway. It was easy to stretch his senses out and everything was so calm that he tried to relax for once. Shutting his eyes, he focussed on breathing in and out deeply.  
    Shadows crept around his light again.  
     “I know you’re here.”  
    There was a creak in the floorboards, the sound causing him to lash out instinctively with a hand.  
    A thin wrist was trapped within his grip and when he opened his eyes, he stared at the floor instead of looking up. He didn’t dare look up.  
    Fingers curled through his hair, tightening into a tugging grip, and he shuddered as he leaned forward, head resting against her breasts.  
     “Missed me so much you put the word out that you wanted me, huh?” Meg asked as she scratched her nails against his scalp. “I decided it was time to let you find me after all. Made you suffer enough.”  
     “I nearly killed you.”  
     “Yeah.” She sighed. “Several times now. We’re not doing well for balancing out what you owe me, Clarence.”  
    He looked up at her and she stared back from a face as unchanged as the last time he saw her. Eventually she shifted a few feet back and he stood up, putting his hand on her shoulder. Through her coat, she felt cold.  
     “Why come back now? Why not keep hiding?”  
    Meg sighed and looked to the side. “I’m done with the games, Castiel. With the hiding. If Crowley wants out and out war, I’m going to help give it to him. At least when I have to play by someone else’s rules, I can chose how he dies.”   
     “Even if it means working with the Winchesters?”  
     “Even if it means working with Dumb and Dumber, yeah.”  
     “And me?”  
    She grinned. “You’re lucky. You’re not that stupid.” Her head tilted up at him. “Plus working with you has fringe benefits, you know?”  
    Puzzled, he tried to remember why he was so conflicted about her but something about the look in her eyes was causing a familiar heat to go through his body. “Such as?”  
    Meg stepped into him, suddenly seductive. “You can show me Heaven, Clarence. As many times as you want.”  
    Her fingers curled around his neck and she stood on her toes, lips pressing into his gently. She’d missed him as well and he could feel it in the way she wrapped herself around him.  
~~  
    His back ached from the marks she’d left so he chose to lie on his stomach, with one arm draped across her hips and his head resting on the other. Despite how comfortable he felt, he still kept a watchful eye on Meg as he watched her toy with the angel sword he’d just re-gifted her with. Naked as the day he’d found her, she looked mischievous as she lay on her back and dragged the blade over his arm. Not hard enough to pierce the skin but hard enough to leave a small welt of pressure. Castiel felt her other hand toy with his hair absently and she sucked her lower lip between her teeth.  
     “I’m sorry.”  
    Her eyes went to his face. “For what? Nearly smiting my ass?”  
     “For that and for what you thought I failed to do.”  
     “I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t save myself and you know it,” she answered. “Just like you wouldn’t be you without working for all this free will business.”  
    Twisting around, she slammed the blade into the headboard and it ricocheted in the wood. She stroked the vibrating blade fondly before she turned to look back at him. Castiel still stared at her without blinking.  
     “Thank you for coming when I called, when I needed you in Houston. For coming this time when I called for you.”  
     Meg’s mouth puckered a little, as if his gratitude burned.  
     “Oh well, you know me.” She reached down and gave his buttocks an affectionate but painfully hard slap that made him flinch. “I’m always hard up for a piece of sweet angel ass.”  
    The hand she had in his hair slipped down his shoulders and her voice softened just a fraction. “Plus I owed you for keeping me under your wing when I needed some time to regroup.”  
     “You only had to ask. I would have done it without wanting repayment,” he said and the arm he had around her waist tightened a little.  
     “That’s the difference between angels and demons. You ask, I simply take.”   
    Realizing how easy it was to fall back into familiar ground, Castiel gave up on understanding her for the millionth time since he’d met her. The only way to gain the upper hand was to play her game. Eventually, he’d know why she’d come back for him and he’d make her say it.  
    But he had other things to think about than a demon’s fickle nature.  
    His arm suddenly yanked her under him and she chuckled up at him when she settled against the pillows, teeth glimmering in the darkness. Castiel bracketed her head with his hands and stared down at her; aware of the control she was letting him have again.   
     “What? Going to declare your devotion for me or something equally cheesy?” Meg asked when he didn’t speak right away. He shrugged. “Because I hate to point it out but you boys typically do that to get a girl in the sack, not to keep her in it.”  
     “Do you really see Heaven when I touch you?” he asked, a faint glimmer of pride in his eyes. Meg shrugged and looked up at him impishly. “What is it like?”  
    Her eyes flicked to black and she grinned wickedly when he brushed his mouth against hers.  
     “I can’t remember. Show me again.”  
    


End file.
